


what remains of H2O Delirious

by derseroyalty



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: cry and jack both played it and I cried a lil bit tbh, it's a video game au basically, wonderful storyline and background and scenery so you should go check it out!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-21 07:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derseroyalty/pseuds/derseroyalty
Summary: after the death of his friends, delirious makes his way to the grand house they all lived in before their untimely ends. although he hasn’t seen them in years, he can’t help but discover the many secrets everyone kept that might have sent them to their graves.(what remains of edith finch au)





	1. at the end of the world, remember me

**Author's Note:**

> okay YES I have two other stories going on rn BUT I really wanted to write this!!! 
> 
> recap: edith finch goes back to her childhood home to learn about her family and their stories of their strange deaths and stuff. it's really interesting and I recommend that you guys go check out the game!! cry and jack played it and it was a wonderful experience.
> 
> due to the fact that some of the stories took place before edith finch was born and stuff, I had to modify a few of them to fit the scenario for delirious. enjoy!

He took a deep breath before he opened the gate.

_Home again...I think._

Jonathan Smith took a few steps past the rusted steel fence, jaw clenching at the forest surrounding him except for the obvious dirt path in front of him. He could hear the creek bubbling somewhere off into the distance. If he looked hard enough, he could see the very tip of the infamous house.

Jon's hand closes around the key in his pocket.

_Scotty knew what he was doing when he gave me the key. The last one of us alive, right? What a load of fucking shit. This is bullshit. I shouldn't be back here. Not in this house full of memories._

And yet, something compelled him to continue walking. It's a cold day in autumn, and some trees are starting to grow bare while sending leaves spiraling to the floor. Orange and yellow splatter the treetops, and it would look lovely, but Jon knows the cold mountains far off ruin the mood. 

The forest was quiet as always. Jon could hear the frogs croaking; there were fireflies glowing in the first setting ray of the sun. He paused at the old mailbox, noting the 'URGENT' mail inside. "Too late now, I suppose." 

He heads down the forest path, trying yet failing to block out the memories of his former family.

_Being a big shot on YouTube was fun for a while. Evan bought this giant house and fixed up all the rooms so we could live there without having to keep traveling to see each other. Most of the group moved in and they somehow roped me in too. I had a room literally outside the house. We all got to paint our own rooms and have gaming equipment everywhere we went. One big ass family, stuck in one house._

_No wonder we fell apart so fast._

Jon's shoes crunch on leaves and sticks as he nears the stream. It's the same as always, still traveling through the woods and down to the lake. EVERYTHING is still the same as always. He's starting to choke on nostalgia and bittersweet memories. If Jon looks hard enough, he can spot the infamous dragon in the stream. It seems broken down, its snout just barely poking out of the water.

_I left before everything started happening. I don't think it was enough to save me from this curse._

A patio near the staircase up to the house has long forgotten chairs and tables scattered everywhere. Jon turns away from the bolded **'MISSING'** posters of his old friend, struggling to remember Scotty's words from the the last time he'd ever see him again. 

_"Go home, Delirious." Scotty gives him a final smile from the hospital bed. "Go home. I can't quite piece everything together, but if you go home, you'll understand everything."_

_"Goodnight, Scott." Jon chokes on his tears. His dear friend closes his eyes for good and Jon cries like it's the end of the world._

_Delirious is the last one left alive._

He's tearing up again as he walks up the stairs and reaches the front door, eyeing the discarded mulch bags around the porch. "Brock really loved his gardening," Jon mutters, attempting to use the key on the lock. No such luck. He's going to have to find another way in. 

Wind chimes clang in the slight breeze, bringing the scent of rain on the way. Jon's eyes widen. Of course, idiot. The doggie door. 

He heads to the side of the house and lo and behold, there it is. He can remember Kino barreling through it and Tyler laughing his ass off every single time he did it.

"Family, Delirious." Jon whispers to himself. "They're your family."

He has to get down and shimmy through the door, huffing and puffing as he squeezes through. Tyler and Brian's collection of cars still clutter the huge garage, various tools scattered around on benches and planks of wood leaning against the wall. Jon coughs, inhaling a bit of sawdust as he makes his way around and to the door leading to the kitchen. When he enters, he gets hit with the familiar smell of old Chinese takeout. The kitchen is a disaster; when Jon pokes his head into the dining room, the giant table they all sat at is covered in dirty dishes. 

There is no sign of life in the house. Of course there isn't; no one has lived there ever since Scott left and all the...unfortunate events happened. 

Jon may have been the first one to leave, but he had no idea it would be the beginning of the end. 

The living room is covered in books and trophies from Luke. If Jon looks hard enough, he can spot all the ways his friends left imprints on the house. Evan's hockey stick hangs on the wall; Daithi's guitar is covered in dust in the corner of the room. 

He still has no idea what really happened to his friends. Scotty just gave him a few details on what happened to everyone and to look for clues and for the secrets in the grand old house. _"You'll find them, Delirious. You're a clever guy. You're the only one left, y'know that right? When you left, Evan built more passages around the house. We all had our own. If you look hard enough, you'll learn our stories. Keep them close to your heart for us. Something to remember us by when we're all dead."_

It was somber, but Scotty had a good point. Being gone for nearly five years brought new adventures but he couldn't forget the friends that made him their family. With a deep breath, Jon walks past the living room and past the old door that led to the basement to where the front door sat. He quietly unlocked it, taking note of the library next to him. It was boarded up; Scotty told him that Evan kept closing up rooms when people started dying. Something to keep his mind distracted were his exact words. 

The stairs seem undisturbed as Jon ascends. If he closes his eyes, he knows for a fact that he could walk to his own room without looking. To his right, he can spot the painted doors of Luke, Brian, and Bryce; Nogla and Lui shared a room there as well. If he continued down the hall, Tyler's room would be there.

Evan Fong knew what he was doing when he built the house. Knowing one floor won't hold everyone, he somehow managed to build rooms upstairs onto the third floor and then add on a few more rooms on the outside and top of the house. It was impressive and Jon honestly had no idea how none of them had collapsed in the years he was gone. 

On the third floor was Marcel, Ryan, Scott, Craig, and Evan. On the outside of the house, Scotty, Brock, and Jon made their homes there. And Scotty said there were several passages added inside the house. 

If Jon's memory served him right, the first one would be in...

He swallowed. At the end of the hall, there's only one door slightly open. It's exactly where he needs to go. 

Delirious was not afraid of many things. He had done a lot of adventurous things throughout his life that could definitely make him seem courageous. 

But staring into the opening of Bryce's room brought a fear he couldn't describe, sending chills throughout his body and making his hands tremble. 

Jon took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and walked to the door.


	2. a dragon's death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for all the kind words!! I thankfully have a game plan and I intend to follow through with it lol
> 
> everything's gonna make sense in the end I promise <3
> 
> this will also be one of the shorter chapters, along with the epilogue. there wasn't much info/details on this story in the game so I improvised!

The door swings open with a loud creak.

Bryce's room is something out of a fantasy land. All the furniture is gone; Evan couldn't bear to have a death in the family, but when everything else happened, he simply gave up and left the rooms the way they were.

Jon can easily remember the day everyone painted their rooms.

_"Goddamn it, who stole the red paint?!" Tyler had yelled, marching from room to room. Jon had walked along the railing outside the house, slipping in through the window. He'd finish his room eventually, deciding to let everyone else finish first. He had peered into Luke's room; although the wall was being traced and painted for one of Luke's favorite scenes from a movie he loved, Jon already knew it was going to be beautiful._

_"Don't tell Tyler," Luke whispered, eyes twinkling with mirth as he dipped his paintbrush into a giant tray of orange. "Bryce managed to snag the paint before Tyler used it all. You should go check out his room, it's gonna be sick!"_

_Jon just grinned and walked past Marcel and Brian arguing over the black paint, poking his head into Bryce's room. Ryan was helping him reach the corners of the wall that he couldn't reach. He could spot the beginning of a castle, possibly surrounded by a moat. Ryan finished a sketch of a magnificent dragon, standing back to admire his work._

_Jon whistled, impressed by the dedication. "Damn Bryce, this looks fucking awesome!"_

_"Thanks, Delirious!" Bryce beamed at him. "Sorry to ask, but could you help me with the water? It fits you, and Ryan says you draw it pretty well."_

_Ryan holds up his hands at the fake glare Jon sends his way. "Did he now? Well he's damn RIGHT. Gimme that paintbrush, this wall is gonna be amazing."_

Jon walks into the empty room. The castle, painted gray and white, stands grand on the wall. The red and orange dragon burns bright, yellow flames glowing out of its mouth. Around the castle, magnificent waves crash against its walls. 

His signature is still there, painted in a darker blue against the cyan sky. 

_H2O Delirious ;)_

There's a chair in the corner of the room. As Jon crosses over to wonder why it was there, he notices a clipping of a newspaper article sitting on the chair. With shaky hands, he immediately spots the opening headline.

**MCQUAID KILLED BY DRAGON!**

"Dragon?" Jon wonders out loud. "What the fuck?"

He quickly skims the article, eyes widening at the eyewitness account from his one and only Ohmwrecker.

**"Bryce was building a dragon slide in the stream," Ryan, a close friend of the deceased, tearfully tells us. "He needed some help so I went to the garage to help grab more materials. I heard a huge crash and then a scream, and I ran back out and...and..."**

**The rest you can assume. Bryce McQuaid's death was the cause of a faulty structure and was a horrific accident. His funeral will be next Sunday at the Briarwood Cemetery.**

Jon lets the newspaper slip from his hands and onto the floor. "The dragon in the stream," he whispers, thinking back to the abandoned dragon he had spotted before. "It...crushed Bryce."

Scotty had given him a list of who died first, but apparently it didn't matter. _"The really ironic thing was that everyone's rooms linked together in order." Scotty's smile was grim. "I was the last one out and I decided to go hunt you down. After everyone else...you and I are the last ones. You need to go back."_

_"And why should I go back to that empty place?" Jon had retaliated, eyes narrowed. "I don't ever want to be back in that fucking house ever again."_

_"EVERYONE'S DEAD, DELIRIOUS." Scotty had roared, slamming his fist onto the table in Jon's apartment. "THEY—WE—WERE YOUR FAMILY AND YOU LEFT US. We all cared about you so FUCKING MUCH and you just LEFT WITHOUT A WORD!!!"_

_"I left a note!!" Jon snarls back. "I left it with Luke, you fucking idiot!! He said he'd give it to you guys!!"_

_Scotty freezes, balking and looking confused. "A note? He never gave us anything, Jon. Are you sure?"_

Jon wipes the tears off his face and struggles to choke down the anger. "Bryce didn't fucking deserve this," he spits, taking one last look at the room. He had a whole life ahead of him. An aspiring singer and artist, cut off by a motherfucking dragon. 

There's a fake window on one of the walls that connects to Brian's room, a lone book with the title Aesop's Fables laying on the windowsill.

Something's off about the book. It's padlocked, which isn't right. Jon furrows his eyebrows, something telling him to take out the key Scott gave him. "No fucking way," he mutters, unlocking Aesop's Fables. The key fits perfectly into the lock and he opens the book.

Inside the book is a lever. Jon blinks in surprise; he doesn't remember this at all. Evan must've installed it after...

He grabs onto the lever and pushes up; the window is fake, obviously, but he doesn't expect it to completely open like a hatch. It's the perfect shape for people to crawl through, so Jon sighs, shuffles in, and closes the door behind him.

It's not a very big room. Long forgotten canvases and paintbrushes lay discarded on the ground, dried paint sticking to the wooden walls. It seems more suited for a getaway place, but obviously a few people knew about it as Jon spots Evan, Ryan, and Luke's signature in paint along the wall. There's a painting of a gorgeous lily surrounded in a field of grass; next to it, Bryce had signed his name.

Jon cried. He knew it wasn't a good time, but after hearing about Bryce's death...

Maybe he shouldn't have left home.

"No use dwelling on the past, Delirious. What's done is done and I made a promise to Scott." Jon whispers, composing himself before getting back down and crawling through the rest of the passageway. It leads to a side door, which Jon kicks open and tumbles into the room.

"Here we go again," Jon shakes his head, staring at the figurines on the white shelves. "Second? You were the second to go? God fucking DAMN it, Brian!!"

He had stumbled into Terroriser's room. Shit.


	3. you stupid sweaty asshole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is fun to write lol
> 
> I have come to a realization that there is only so much I can write about these stories; I can't exactly write 3k words about one death and stretch it out. 
> 
> some will be short, others will be easily over 1k. thank you everyone!

Jon grabs a Rubik's cube off of Brian's desk and slams it into the ground, sending pieces everywhere. "SON OF A BITCH!" Jon yells, tears blurring his vision. "What did you DO?"

Brian's room had always been cluttered. Brock always told him to clean it, but the other refused constantly and claimed he had a system going. He supposed it worked; countless papers were stacked on the floor.

Someone had cleared the area around his desk. There was a small memorial; a few trinkets left in place of flowers. Jon had to assume that they buried everyone (or whoever's body they could find) at the nearby cemetery; he made a mental note to go check it out later.

Tool kits and parts to build a robot were scattered all over the floor. Brian loved robots, taking his nickname from the goddamn Terminator series. He had a spot-on impression of the voice, joining with Lui for strange conversations.

Jon would've killed someone to hear him do the voice again.

It's quiet as he looks around. The silence is starting to suffocate him; he will never hear Brian laugh and scream again, always trying to do his best in video games. On his desk, a single piece of paper calls his name.

Jon clenches a fist as he picks it up. He recognizes the handwriting immediately; it seems to teleport him to the edge of the lake, back in time to the golden days, tainted with death.

Oh, Brian...  The note reads.

That day, you promised Daithi you would help him hunt for crabs. I think you knew that crabs aren't local to the area, but it was fun watching you try. 

Jon watches as Brian crouches near him, laughing as Daithi keeps on picking up rocks. Lui follows close behind, filling a bucket with dirt and chucking rocks into the lake. 

Luke had a barbecue going on. It was a warm sunny day; even Ryan had come outside for once. 

He spots Luke standing at the grill, grinning at Tyler who's peering over his shoulder. Evan and Marcel stand off to the side eating sandwiches.

Craig and Scott are sitting with Ryan; as Jon continues to watch, Ryan wipes away a few tears and gives them a weak smile. He looks pale and exhausted, still torn up about Bryce's death.

I was watching my family. I was watching you guys, and then the wind picked up. 

Jon closes his eyes.

A freak hurricane. That's what the meteorologist said later. A freak hurricane out of nowhere. We're not supposed to get those at a damn lake. 

A few of us went inside. Luke closed the grill and hustled the food in with him. When the rain picked up, and the lightning flashed, you were still out there. Daithi was the last one to see you. 

He can see it clear as day. A hurricane roaring through the area, picking up debris and slamming them against the ground. The rain pelts Brian's hair as he continues to search for something. 

I will never know why you stayed out there. All I know is that when we managed to find our giant picnic table, which was lodged in a tree, we found it covered in blood and then we found you. 

Jon finally notices the tear stains on the paper. They're extremely faint, but he can imagine his friend sobbing his eyes out as he wrote the letter.

Brian...I will never understand the things you did on that final day, but I hope you know that we cared for you very much. We're family and we loved you. 

I hope it's sunny wherever you are. —Brock. 

It feels wrong to take the letter, so Jon gently closes it up and sits it back down on the desk. 

Somewhere in the house, a clock chimes. 

Blood roars in Jon's ears. Five years was a long time to be gone, and this was his consequence. He couldn't imagine living in the house, his best friends being killed off one by one. 

But it would've benefitted everyone if he had stayed.

He was a clown online and one of the few peacemakers in person. Jon could resolve an argument fast; by rushing into the room, jumping on whoever was arguing, and he'd just laugh away, everyone else joining in with his delirious laughter.

Who would've made jokes while he was gone? Who was the closest to imitating his laugh?

It hurt him so damn much to think about. 

There was a lot of information that Scotty gave him, and bits and pieces of it would come back as Jon kept finding secrets. 

_"...How was everyone when I left?"_

_"Devastated," Scotty says immediately. "You were technically the first to go. We all fought more and more and Brock was able to keep the peace with Evan's help. Without our beloved clown, what could we do?"_

_Jon swallows, afraid to ask a question he may know the answer to. "...How'd Evan take it?"_

_Scotty grins, but the light never reaches his eyes. "Dear, sweet, darling Delirious. You and I both know how well he took it."_

"Where to next?" Jon mutters, taking out the list Scott gave him. His heart drops so fast it leaves him gasping for air, black dots dancing in his vision. 

"Shit," he wheezes out, using Brian's desk to support himself. "It's not supposed to be you. You're not supposed to be this high up."

Jon finds himself standing at Brian's window. He slides open the window and steps out onto the railing on the side that Evan built a long time ago. It's slightly rusted, but it has always supported everyone's weight and it supports Jon even now.

The sun is finally setting. Jon takes a final look at the sunset, orange and pink painting the sky, looking like a gorgeous painting.

Jon breathes in the cool air and finds the courage to keep walking along the path. He passes the living room, which he remembers was always full of laughter and love. It's so fucking heartbreaking to go through memories like this.

There it is. The last stop on the path; a very familiar window. Jon shudders and opens it, gently stepping into his brother's room.

"You were right, Luke." Jon whispers to the darkened bedroom. "I should've come home a lot sooner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3
> 
> I'm writing the next chapter for 'revenge' so it might be up by tomorrow, I have no set schedule lmao


	4. a picture's worth a thousand words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait everyone, it's a bit difficult to keep three stories updating and juggling life as well lol
> 
> I tend to write all my chapters around 2 AM?? it's a good system tho

Luke. His unofficial brother. The guy he considered to be his flesh and blood, brother from another mother.

And he was dead.

Jon chokes on sobs, closing the window behind him and sinking to the ground. Luke's room has a rack of guns; the man was always prepared in case of an emergency. The walls are painted red and orange, showing awesome battle scenes from his favorite movies. He even had his own sunglasses rack in the corner of the room. 

Prizes from Luke's hunting trips litter the wall. He hunted for food; although they could've bought meat at the store, Luke claimed it was easier and he never killed for sport. The others knew it was honorable so he was allowed a permit and to head out to the woods. 

Jon went on one hunting trip with him. It rained, it was muddy, and it was freezing. He complained the entire time but all Luke did was laugh, adapting to his surroundings and blending in. 

They brought in a giant buck and Jon puffed his chest out when Evan and everyone else complimented him.

_"I'm so proud of you!!" Luke had shouted, picking Jon up and twirling him around. "Online and off, we make a pretty great team."_

_"We're the best team there ever was," Jon promised. "We're the fucking best!"_

Before, during, and after his YouTube career, Luke had always been there for him. When Cartoonz moved into the house, Jon was still hesitant about going but took the risk because he knew someone would always have his back. They had known each other for years and had a bond no one would ever understand.

And Luke was _dead._

Reality starts to creep in. When Jon had taken the ferry out to the island, walked down the dirt road to open the gate, it seemed like he was dreaming. Everything sounded like one big ass dream; Internet friends move in with each other, it's wonderful for a while, and then it starts to break down. 

One of the gang escapes and tells the final person before dying. It seemed too cliché and Jon kept walking through like it was just a big game. 

Good thing he always kept the mask. 

"Son of a bitch," Jon breathes out, wiping his eyes. "You were so excited to live here. You were so excited to be with everyone and have me join and I ruined the golden age. It was me, Luke. I'm the one who did this to us and broke apart the group."

No one answers him. The silence crushes in on Jon. It's suffocating and he's freaking out and grabbing onto anything in reach—

His hand hits Luke's antique desk and knocks against something hard. 

It startles Jon. He tries to stop the shaking as he focuses on the object. It's a camera, with various photographs scattered around it. There's scribbled words on a Post-It note attached to the camera. As he catches sight of the handwriting, he inhales and sobs, trembling fingers gently taking the Post-It off. 

It's covered in dust. The handwriting is shaky and the ink bleeds off the note. Jon can already hear his voice, cracked and hoarse, echo through his mind as he reads the small piece of paper.

Luke. 

You taught me to value life in brilliant colors and to treasure everything before it was gone. 

I should’ve done the same for you. 

I saw the note from Jon. I’m hurt that you hid it from us, but I can assume that you had your reasons. Guess I can’t ask you them now. I can only hope it was a damn good excuse because you know I cared for him deeply. 

Not as platonic as you, Luke, but I guess we’ll both never see how it would’ve ended up. 

Hope there’s good hunting wherever you are. You always had an excellent aim. —Evan. 

Jon's scream rips his throat and echoes through the entire house. He screams until the sadness is gone and there's just anger and rage. He shuts his eyes, throwing fists at anything and everything. Luke's precious sunglasses stand takes the blunt of his violent rampage and crashes to the floor. "FUCK!!" Jon screeches, his anger ebbing away and leaving only tears. 

Evan...

No. He wouldn't get into it at the moment. He couldn't and wouldn't let himself get consumed by the tidal wave of emotions he was feeling for him.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, Jon sets the Post-It down and grabs the camera. There's still photos from several years ago on it. The first one he sees is himself, Tyler, and Marcel. It's a selfie of them drawing on Scotty and Brian's faces as they're sleeping. Jon, still reeling from the note, manages a small smile. 

As he continues through, he notices the days going by faster. It seems to be Ryan taking the most photos; Bryce appears for a long while and then vanishes. Jon can't help the shudder that goes down his spine as he realizes the reason is because he's dead.

Brian's death passes. Brock and Craig look devastated but they look like they're trying to move on. The dates keep going by faster and faster until Jon finally reaches a photo that has Luke and Evan posing for the camera. The next photo is Evan sitting in the passenger seat of Luke's truck looking grumpy. As Jon continues, he feels himself getting pulled into a flashback.

_"Cartoonz, it's freezing and I think it's gonna rain," Evan complains, tugging up the collar of his famous red jacket. "You seriously want to go hunting in this weather?"_

_Luke snaps the photo at a perfect moment. "Every time is a good time to go hunting! Come on, I'll even help you aim. I think it's Tyler's turn to make barbecue tonight."_

The scene shifts to the two of them near a cliff. Evan's pointing a rifle at a huge buck, and he's extremely tense about the whole thing. Of course he is. Evan was a passive person and didn't really believe in killing things. Luke snaps another photo and helps Evan adjust the scope. 

_"Aim a bit to the left," Luke whispers. "Place your finger on the trigger."_

_Evan squeezes his eyes shut and shoots._

_"That was a great shot!" Luke cheers, watching the deer go down. "Go take a photo with it, and then I'll be up there joining you in a second once I get the timer to work."_

_Jon knows Evan extremely well so he isn't surprised when Evan bursts into tears in the next few seconds, tearfully making his way to the fallen animal. Luke snaps one photo and then another._

_Jon keeps watching with dread in his stomach as Luke sets the timer and hustles to the deer, attempting to pose by it. "This is gonna be so awesome to look at later."_

_Evan pauses, furrowing his eyebrows at the deer. "Uh, Luke, I don't think it's dead—”_

_The deer bucks, Luke loses his balance, and tumbles over the cliff as Evan screams, "LUKE!!!"_

_The camera clicks._

Jon stares in horror at the final picture. It's a perfect shot of Luke falling to his death, Evan's eyes huge and mouth open as he screams for his friend. 

With shaking hands he sets down the camera. A moment instilled in time, forever to be haunted by the death of his brother. 

_"We all lost our shit when Evan came back a complete wreck." Scotty hummed, pouring some of Jon's cereal into his bowl and adding milk. Jon grunts from where he's eating dry cereal. "None of us were expecting it to happen. Four down, countless more people to go."_

_"This isn't a game, Scott." Jon had whispered._

_"When everyone you care for dies around you, you get a little immune to it." Scotty grins. "Besides, I'm due to die soon so I'll get to see Marcel again. How cool is that?"_

_They had both cried for a while after that._

"I need to get out of here," Jon backs away, shaking his head. "I'm getting a little...delirious."

He rushes to the bathroom, sinking onto the carpet and trembling. He wishes he had Scott with him. "This would be easier with anyone," Jon breathes, running a hand through his hair. "Shit. Okay. Get your shit together, Delirious. If the door's boarded up, there should be something around here." 

Jon gets up and sways a bit as he looks around. A book catches his attention on top of the toilet. It's padlocked. 

"Here we go again," he mutters, taking a glance at the title. 

**'There's a Secret in This Bathroom'** it reads. Jon gets the key out of his pocket and unlocks the book, smiling sadly as he spots Ryan and Bryce's name on the cover. 

"This looks like a tab pull-out book or something," Jon remarks as he notices the arrows. 

**"There's a secret in this bathroom!"** The figure that looks suspiciously like Evan says in his dialogue bubble. 

Jon pulls the first tab, which has the drawn figure of Bryce open the cabinet under the sink. **"It's in the last place you would look."**

The second tab has Bryce frown. **"It isn't in the cupboard..."**

Jon raises an eyebrow as he pulls the third and final tab, which has the drawn figure of Ryan open a panel behind the wall and reveal a switch. **"It's hidden in this book!"**

"What the shit," Jon whispers as he turns the switch. The panel falls away and Jon groans before crawling in, making sure he doesn't knock over the photographs that got strung up in the passageway. Another one of Bryce's drawings makes its appearance on the wooden wall.

Jon finds that he can easily stand up in the area. To get to the next one however, he has to crawl again. 

He huffs a bit before getting down on his knees and shuffling through, not paying attention as he knocks a chair out of the way into the next room. "Where did I put Scott's list...oh fuck no."

Jon gets up and sighs heavily as he sits down in the shared room on of their beds, shutting his eyes. "Y'know, when we joked that the two of you were dead YouTubers, we didn't really mean it. I think you both would've appreciated that joke."

The two peas in a pod, Nogla and Lui. 

At least their deaths were close enough to make it bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went through some of my old stories on ff.net and I'm cringing at how bad they are but that was me starting out and I can recognize the style that I was doing and it's bittersweet lol


	5. to the stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys I'm so sorry for the wait, my family keeps me hella busy
> 
> anyways I'm doing my best to get everything back on track so enjoy!!
> 
> this'll kinda be a short chapter bc it sort of pairs into the next one and I didn't feel like combining them lmao rip

Nogla and Lui's room had gotten sectioned off into two sides by a velvet rope. 

Photos of Joe and Tony cover Nogla's side. There's countless pictures of the gang and selfies of the duo, grinning at the camera. An old joking pile of potatoes sit near Nogla's bed, decomposed and dead. Two dog beds lie on the floor covered with dust. 

Next to the bed, there's a small set of stairs built into the wall. They lead up to a small 'treehouse' above Daithi's bed. Lui has the same one on his side of the room as well, painted a shade of brown compared to Nogla's green. Jon hasn't been in their room for a long time, so he feels like he's moving through memories as he quietly climbs Nogla's stairs.

_"...Is there really a curse?"_

_"Who knows," Scotty shrugs, watching kids play on the playground as he sits next to Jon eating ice cream. "There might be. There might not be. All I can tell you is that there were a bunch of unlucky coincidences."_

_"Just like Nogla and Lui?" Jon's hands clench around his cup. "Only a week apart?"_

_"Unfortunate," Scotty sighs out. "Look, Delirious, I don't know if you've been keeping up, but we all died. I'm dying right now. It's just inevitable."_

_"Just like everything else in life." Jon crushes his ice cream cup in his hands. "Fuck this."_

_"That's what we originally said too."_

It seems so fucking quiet standing in their room with no noise. Too empty. Too silent. What could've stopped these two??

In Daithi's treehouse, there's candles scattered all over the place. Photos of Nogla are taped to the inside of the walls. Countless flowers litter the floor and almost obscure the letter that Jon notices. It's a crisp sheet of paper; whoever wrote it only had to do it once before folding it and putting it among the flowers. 

Jon feels the familiar tug of the flashback as he opens up the letter, closing his eyes briefly and reopening them. A bit far from the house was the lake, and close by were a lot of trees. A single cliff overlooked the medium sized lake and that's where the swing was placed. Several of the guys had helped build it but completely forgot about it.

It was wooden and had metal bits attached to the thick and sturdy trees. It was Nogla's favorite place to go, swinging in the breeze as Lui wandered around, catching frogs and throwing dirt. Nogla hummed as he swung back and forth, kicking his long legs up.

Jon reads the first line.

How I Want To Remember My Brother, 

by Lui Calibre. 

The thing I remember is that when he made up his mind, that was it. 

My brother said he'd die before he ate another potato. And he did. 

Jon clenches his jaw.

At Brian’s funeral, we swore we would never be afraid again. And he wasn’t. 

I think Nogla always wanted to fly. 

In the distance, Marcel calls to the duo, voice echoing across the lake. “Lui! Nogla! Dinner’s ready! Brock made fish!”

“Coming!” Lui calls back. He dumps a pile of dirt down and almost heads off, pausing as he stops by Nogla. "Let's go eat!"

"You go on ahead, Lui." Nogla smiles, still swinging. "I'm gonna try to go for the record swing."

Lui squints, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Oh? You mean the same shit that Evan told us not to do?"

"Yeah, but I'll be fine!" Nogla waves him off with a grin. "I think I got it this time."

But that day, he finally made up his mind to do it. 

Lui eyes him and the tree branch the swing was attached to. He finally grins and gives him a thumbs up, heading down the cliff. "Good luck!!" 

I told him going around was impossible. 

Maybe if I hadn't said that... 

__It ruffles Nogla's hair as he keeps pushing himself, trying to keep his glasses on as he gets higher and higher. Jon watches in horror as he hums a simple tune, pushing himself to the limits._ _

____

Or maybe if the wind hadn't picked up... 

____

__"Nogla!!" Marcel's voice is sharp. "I'm not gonna tell you again!!"_ _

____

Then maybe he'd still be here, but I doubt it. 

____

I think he'd already made up his mind. 

____

__"Ah, shit." Nogla curses quietly, already at a perfect 90° with the ground. Jon's frozen in fear as he yells for Nogla to stop, voice lost in the wind._ _

____

__There's no point. There's only a sense of helplessness as Nogla gets closer and closer to going around the tree branch._ _

____

That's what I want to remember about my brother. 

____

__The swing lurches, Daithi goes even higher, and Jon sees the point of no return. With the right amount of force, he goes all the way around the tree branch, until he goes in several perfect circles around the branch. Daithi doesn't make a single sound as he finally, _finally_ succeeds in going around._ _

____

__The force is too much for anyone to handle._ _

____

__Nogla goes flying off the swing, over the cliff, and all Jon can see are the sharp rocks at the bottom._ _

____

The day he made up his mind to fly... 

__He doesn't need to hear the SPLAT when Nogla lands._ _

____

____

...and he did. 

____

__The flashback ends. Jon gasps for air, hands trembling as he closes the letter and returns it to its spot. His anxiety is through the roof as he shakes and climbs out of the treehouse._ _

____

__He needs to hurry in this room or he'll vomit._ _

____

__Jon hurries his way to Lui's side of the room, gazing at the old newspaper that's giving him serious déjà vu of Bryce. He sighs heavily and leans back on Lui's bed, disturbing the dust and causing it to fly everywhere. "This is gonna be the death of me," he whispers._ _

____

__The sad thing? It probably would be._ _

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SENIOR YEAR'S IN A MONTH


	6. rip tide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this'll probably be the shortest chapter tbh I really have nothing else for this chapter
> 
> I can't really write Nogla and Lui that well??? sorry guys
> 
> it's Evan and Tyler I love to write more rip

The newspaper has an older pic of Lui; it's old enough that Jon actually remembers when it taken. He's posing with Nogla, smiling at the camera while his arm's around his extremely tall best friend. Tyler's in the background sticking his tongue out and Evan's laughing.

It hurts to see them. His heartbeat is erratic and Jon puts his hand to his chest, shuddering as he takes a large breath.

_It's getting worse._

No time to think about that, though. Jon's on a mission to uncover the stories he missed when he was gone. 

**BODY FOUND IN THE LAKE!**

It's the same lake Nogla died near.

Jon breathes out, eyes closing for a moment. He opens up the newspaper and reads quietly to himself.

 **Not long after the death of another resident of the house, another has ended up dead in the lake. Evan Fong, owner of the house, has given us a few comments on the matter.**

**"Lui was a dear friend to all of us," Fong tells us. "We're leading an investigation to try and figure out what happened. We're all devastated and that's all you guys need to know. Thanks for your time."**

**Lui's funeral will be held at...**

Jon folds the newspaper and covers his face with his hands. "I'm so tired," he whispers to the empty room. "I'm so fucking tired." 

The house seems to laugh at him. It's mocking him for coming home after the worse had passed. Jon feels like he can sense every creak and room in the house. It's like some weird Monster House shit that he can't explain. 

_"The thing is, with Lui's death," Scotty remarked, coughing a bit, "we're not sure."_

_"...What?"_

_"We're still not sure what actually happened." Scotty shrugs. "We just...don't know. Might've been a nasty coincidence that Nogla had died recently too. That one, I don't have any answers for you. Sorry."_

Inside the newspaper, there's a notepad with scribbles on it. Jon peers closer and recognizes Craig's handwriting, along with notes from Marcel and Brock.

Does the lake have currents??? 

maybe. what proof do we have? 

I headed out to the lake. I was fine near the shore, but there seems to be a really strong current near the middle. 

...was it an accident? 

I don't know and I don't want to know. Let's chalk it up to that. I'm tired of this fucking curse. 

me too, Marcel. me too. 

A bit straight forward, but still effective. Another family member lost to the curse that haunted the house. 

Jon sighs and gets up. Too many ghosts linger in this room. He needs to get out so he can meet with the next one. He checks the list, shakes his head, and heads over to Lui's bookshelf in the corner of the room. "The door's sealed shut so there's another way out." Jon mutters. 

The books on the middle shelf are in order from biggest to smallest. The biggest book has a latch across it. The thing is, they look...fake. Jon squints, reaches forward, and gently pushes the smallest book into the next one. It clicks in, kinda like a matryoshka doll, and Jon keeps pushing them until they fit nice and neat inside the biggest book and the latch pops off.

Intrigued, jon opens the book to find a lever. He pulls it up, and the entire bookshelf moves up and rolls along to reveal another passageway. He squeezes himself in and huffs as he crawls through. To his left, there's a door that leads to a cabinet in the hallway, but Jon's not there for that exit. In front of him there's an opening that leads up into someone's room.

There's a sense of sadness as Jon pokes his head out of the chest that the passageway leads to. He looks at all the awards scattered everywhere; the house must've been so fucking quiet when he died. "Little pig, little pig, let me in." Jon mutters. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin."

The name I AM WILDCAT is painted on the wall. "Guess the big bad wolf got you after all, old friend." Jon sighs. "What's the story behind you, Tyler?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GreyMonkey I love you a lot okay thank you for commenting on legit every single chapter
> 
> you're the best <3


	7. the pig says oink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I’m just trying to get my shit together bc I’m super tired
> 
> on the bright side, I fixed my pesterlog format so the text messages between characters look magnificent now. I'm super proud of them; every single one now has color. y'all should reread them to see the difference *wink wonk*

Tyler's room was still as messy as always. 

Jon breathes in the familiar scent; although it's been too long, he feels like he can still smell the air fresheners Evan used to throw into his room. 

_"It smells awful in there, Tyler." Brock would sigh out._

_With Tyler distracted, it's a perfect opportunity for Evan to throw several more into his room. As he sneaks out, Tyler catches his eye and growls. "I know what you're doing, asshole."_

_"Maybe it smells bad because you're a pig, and pigs live in mud?" Evan suggests before laughing and running off as Tyler would try to tackle him down._

Out of the crew, it was Tyler who was the proudest of his career. Evan gave him his diamond play button so Tyler could hang it in his room.

Various posters line the wall. Hats from the crew and t-shirts fill his closet, covered in dust and signed. 

Tyler always said that he was getting tired of how YouTube ended up treating them, but he was proud of the pig persona and how he was known for the laughs and rages. _“A perfect combo!” Tyler would grin. “Even though I kinda missed the Dorito bag.”_

He was the one who was happy in the spotlight. Jon kept to himself, obviously, as no one had ever figured out his identity even after all these years. He stayed with Brock, Ryan, and occasionally Evan when the rest of the group went out to events. 

There’s recording equipment scattered around the room. Kino’s old dog bed was still on the floor, an empty bowl filled with dirt and dust. Tyler couldn’t bear to part with it after his dear Kino had passed away, so he left everything the way it was. 

Jon didn’t know if that made him feel bittersweet or make him feel worse. 

There’s a comic on Tyler’s giant bed. Confused as he spots the logo of YouTube, Jon frowns and heads on over to look at it.

_“What happened to Tyler?” Jon asks hesitantly._

_He won’t ever forget Scotty’s eyes immediately brimming with tears as he shakily puts down the coffee cup. “…We don’t know.”_

_“What?!” Jon exclaims, rearing back. “What the hell do you mean?”_

_“WE DON’T KNOW!” Scotty snarls. “And I don’t think I want to know.”_

The comic reads out,  DREADFUL STORIES! 

Underneath, there's a small box with the words,  guest starring, Tyler a.k.a I AM WILDCAT! 

There's a very nasty feeling in Jon's gut as he sits on Tyler's bed and opens the comic.

On the first page, there's a character that looks like Tyler's old pig persona, but with a stitched up face and dried 'blood' on his mask. Jon immediately assumes that it's the narrator as the pig persona begins his talk. 

"Old Jack here with another ghastly tale inspired by America's most unfortunate YouTube family,"  The pig announces.  "I'm calling it...the surprise ending of Tyler Wine!" 

_Oh, god...Tyler no..._

The comic drawing is eerily realistic to the house; of course the artist would want to get the details down. Tyler's image stares back at him and Jon has to calm his breathing before he can continue.

"As a YouTube star, Tyler was famous for his screams."  The pig snickers.

"Now at 29, he was all washed up. A has-been." 

"Fuck you," Jon spits. Of course, the comic can't hear him, so he just angrily crumples the page before continuing. 

"But in a lucky break, he'd been asked to perform his signature scream at a local convention for YouTube fans. It was just the boost his former career needed!" 

"Unfortunately, his scream hadn't aged well." 

That...was partially true. Tyler's voice had gone raspy after all the years, so he had to constantly drink water to deal with it. As Jon peers down at the page, he recognizes the person sitting with Tyler; it's Kelly, his ex and good friend. 

_Did she have something to do with Tyler's death???_

Kelly narrows her eyes after Tyler's pathetic yell. "Hm...getting better. I think you just need the right motivation."

"His oldest fan, Kelly, was about to demonstrate when—" 

"AAUUUGGHHHH!!!"

"That was a damn good scream," Kelly nods in appreciation. 

"It was Craig, Tyler's best friend!! He had accidentally sliced his hand open with a knife and had to be rushed to the emergency room." 

Jon clenches his jaw at the illustrated Mini, who looks to be in a lot of pain. 

"So Tyler got stuck making sure their friend Ryan wouldn't have anymore anxiety attacks. His YouTube convention comeback was canceled." 

Tyler screeches again in a fit of rage. Kelly, who's still listening to the screams, taps her chin thoughtfully. "Okay, I'm hearing frustration, but I'm not hearing terror. What if I—"

 _"A gang of hoodlums in Halloween masks have been terrorizing Orcas Island tonight! Police are urging residents to—"_ The radio announces before cutting out.

A loud _CRASH_ sounds from downstairs; Tyler leaps to his feet and says, "That came from the basement!"

"You're right!" Kelly exclaims. "Also, I loved your delivery on that."

She heads over to the door to find it unable to open. "Why is your basement door locked?"

Tyler sighs. "Because Evan likes making puzzles and secret passages. There's a key hidden in the music box." He leans next to her and starts turning the lever, rolling his eyes. "The secret is to keep winding...and winding...until finally, the key pops out."

Kelly gratefully takes the key from him. "Thanks Ty. I'll be back in a sec."

She descends into the basement and Jon's stomach drops. 

"Twenty minutes later..."  The pig grins in a horrifying way.  "Kelly hadn't returned." 

"So Tyler went to look for her...right on cue." 

Jon watches as Tyler takes the key out of the music box. That wasn't originally there before he left; did they install it after? 

"And as he wound the key, he listened for Kelly, but the house was silent." 

Tyler descends into the basement and the panels flash by; he grabs a baseball bat and creeps through, eyes narrowed as the radio turns on again. _"The gang's leader is the infamous Hookman Killer, Dr. Karl Hamel, who impaled and then ate his family ten years ago tonight."_

"WHAT?!" Jon shouts. "That can't be fuckin' true!! We would've heard about it!"

It occurs to him that he's still shouting at a comic, where the entire thing could've been made up. But Jon can sadly sense that there's a truth hidden somewhere in the glossy pages so he keeps reading. 

At the end of the hallway in the basement, there's an old fridge. Luke kept some hunting meat in there; as Tyler approaches, it shakes and moves back and forth.

"The old fridge rattled and grew still."  The pig whispers out, still smiling an eerie smile. 

Tyler creeps towards it...baseball bat in hand...he reaches for the handle...

"ROOOOAAARRR!" Kelly howls, leaping out of the fridge. Tyler squawks, yelling "Aw shit!" before decking her in the gut. She kneels over, winded and groans loudly. "Kelly?!" Tyler shrieks. 

The panel cuts to Tyler kicking Kelly out. Jon wonders where Ryan is in all of this if he had to stay home. 

"Tyler, relax." Kelly looks irritated. "I was just trying to scare you to help you find your scream."

"Well I'm not scared, Kelly. I'm furious!" Tyler snarls. 

Kelly throws her hands into the air. "Then act furious!! All I'm getting from you is that you're hurt and confused and you're—"

 _SLAM!!_ Tyler throws her out. 

"Tyler fell asleep watching Saturday Night Live. Hours later..." 

"TYLER!" Ryan's yell is loud and echoes. 

"Ryan?" Tyler frowns, rubbing his eyes and getting up. "What's going on?"

"AHHHH!" Ryan yells before going silent. Jon clenches the comic in horror and fear, dreading to keep on coming.

He has to. For Tyler. 

"If this is a trick, you're DEAD Ohm!" Tyler growls. He heads upstairs, clutching the baseball bat in his hands. Ryan's door (which was Bryce's room; he took it over after Bryce died, which hurts Jon more than he realizes) is open, which is...unusual. "Ohm, are you there?" Tyler whispers, heading to Ryan's bed. There's nobody there and Jon gasps. 

"Ryan had vanished. But his bedside radio was still on..." 

The radio buzzes again. _"Orcas Island police describe the man as six feet tall, with a steel hook for a hand. Witnesses are urged to lock all doors and windows and notify the police of any suspicious activity—"_

_C R E A K._

Tyler turns slowly to see the Hookman Killer approach him, steel hook and all.

"Tyler turned, saw the Hookman, and... 

Tyler inhales, gasping silently. 

"...was speechless." 

The Hookman lunges for Tyler; they wrestle, until Tyler grunts and shoves him out of the room. With shaking hands, he locks the door and listens to the Hookman banging on the door. 

"And whoever he was, he couldn't get enough of Tyler!"  The pig giggles, smearing some blood on his mask. 

"Okay Tyler," he mutters under his breath as he looks around Ryan's (Bryce's) room. "There's gotta be another way outta here."

He looks around for a moment before spotting the secret passage that Jon crawled through; it's open, which means that Ryan must've been in it recently. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls through, baseball bat thankfully still in hand. 

"That night, he played his part beautifully." 

Tyler ends up in Brian's room. For a moment, he looks so sad before he readies the bat and opens Brian's door as quietly as he could. It creaks open to reveal the Hookman still banging on Ryan's door. 

"He thought about abandoning Ryan, but he just couldn't do it." 

"That's bullshit!!" Jon spits. "He NEVER would've left any of us behind."

Tyler sneaks up on the Hookman. His grip tightens on the bat, and his aim is true. The hit whacks the shit out of the Hookman; another hit, and he goes stumbling towards the banister. The Hookman trips on someone's shoes, and the momentum is too much. He flips over the banister and crashes into the glass table down below.

Tyler peers over the edge at the seemingly dead Hookman.

"He wasn't moving, but he sensed that the story might not be over yet." 

Jon dreads the worst as Tyler heads back down the stairs; he rounds the corner, and...

"The Hookman had vanished!! He listened for his breathing, but all he heard was—" 

_DING DONG!_

Tyler hesitantly makes his way to the front of the house, the grip on the bat causing his knuckles to turn white. 

"At the door, he heard whispering..." 

Jon's fingers are sweaty as he continues, trembling all over.

"It was coming from inside the house!" 

Multiple figures step into frame, holding various weapons. Tyler gasps, inhaling for a scream, but all that comes out is, "Oh dear."

"NO!" Jon screeches, turning the page as fast as he can. 

"SURPRISE!!" The people from the convention center shout. "Bravo, Tyler!" Someone else yells. 

"You were wonderful!"

"We loved you!"

Tyler realizes that they're the fans he was supposed to meet. He shakily puts down the bat and greets everyone, a bright smile on his face. 

"The cosplayers had come to surprise him! For Tyler, it was a dream come true." 

"Then he saw what kind of cosplayers they were and he realized what was about to happen!" 

"Wait, no! What is it?!" Jon gasps, eyes wide as he stares at the comic. 

"He was going to be...famous." 

They're monsters. They were truly evil monsters.

"And with his final breath, Tyler Wine gave the performance of his life." 

"AAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!" Tyler's famous scream echoes through the house as the fans pounce. There is nothing left of his beloved friend.

"I wasn't there myself,"  the pig shakes his head mournfully.  "But I hear Tyler was magnificent!" 

"Poor boy. He had a taste for stardom, but unfortunately, so did his fans!" 

Jon snaps one of the trophies in Tyler's room in half. 

"Of course, the police blamed it all on poor Kelly, who disappeared the same night." 

"And little Ryan?" 

"You leave him the fuck ALONE," Jon snarls. 

"Hiding under his bed the whole time! He took it all pretty hard, but that's another story." 

Jon can practically see Ryan hiding, the anxiety choking up his throat. Of course he wouldn't be able to move. Of course he wouldn't be able to say anything. Ryan's anxiety attacks had always been brutal but THIS...

This was too much.

"As for Tyler, tucked inside the music box was all they ever found of him." 

Jon jerks to attention. "What?"

"...His ear." 

With absolutely no shame, Jon throws up immediately in the nearest trash can. 

The pig chuckles on the final page.  "Now that's what I call a real ear-ie tale!"  The pig cackles and the words  THE END  seem to flicker in Jon's vision. 

He rips the comic to shreds. Page by page, piece by piece. The blood roars in his ears as he sobs, mindlessly tearing it apart.

_Just like Tyler?_

“Oh my fucking god.” 

Jon’s shaking hands put down the ruined comic. He’s hyperventilating, eyes huge and heart beating fast. For a moment, he feels his heart actually stop and he has to gasp for air. 

_It’s getting worse. How long can I keep this up?_

One by one, each death weighs heavily on his conscious. The first domino piece to fall was himself and he doesn’t know how to feel. 

Now Tyler was DEAD because of something he loved and Jon didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself. 

But…

_What happened to Ohm?_

The posters on the wall seem to sneer at him. He sees his own Delirious mask cackling back at him and it’s too much to process.

Jon bolts back into the chest and frantically crawls through the closest exit, which is the small door that leads back to the hallway. The sun is nearly gone as he takes a deep breath, pulling out the list. 

In Scotty’s sloppy handwriting, he reads, “Bryce, Brian, Luke, Nogla, Lui, Tyler…Ryan.”

Shit. 

Jon thinks of the comic again. The basement key was hidden somewhere by the one person who used it the most. “That would be…Ohm.”

He heads back downstairs, trying to calm his nerves as he turns into the hallway and in front of the basement door. He recognizes the music box that Ryan carved several years ago. In honor of their friendship, Ryan had put a cat, a fox, a rabbit, and a raccoon on the cover. Evan and Daithi somehow added a simple tune to it and it played like a charm. 

He turns the lever, struggling not to cry as it opens and plays. He continues to wind it, trying not to throw up as tears roll down his cheeks. The lever pops out and reveals the key. 

The door, still creaky after all these years, squeaks open when he pushes it and Jon descends into the basement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm grumpy because I REALLY wanted to know how Barbara died but I guess it's vague on purpose :( 
> 
> also we're halfway through this story hyyypppeee
> 
> (writing the comic part is why I took so long; I had to keep rewinding over and over to get the script and sometimes I'm not in the mood to do that :( but thanks for sticking with me!)


	8. a face I can barely remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got home from school and immediately passed out and took a three hour nap lmao
> 
> we're BACK IN BUSINESS

The basement stairs are dark, steep, and covered in dust.

Jon hesitantly makes his way down, trying to stop his heart from beating so fast. His chest hurts; he feels a bit light-headed, and he wonders if it's from reading Tyler's horrifying end. 

Part of him knows exactly what it is. Jon's just too terrified to truly accept it. 

He maneuvers around the pool table but he doesn't really know what he's looking for. Jon never had a reason to really go into the basement; Ryan, Luke, and Brock mostly did.

Jon makes his way past the fridge where Kelly had been hiding to scare Tyler. He shudders and goes to open it, wincing as he imagines the worst.

What should be the back of the fridge is missing. There's just an empty hallway, reinforced and leading somewhere Jon has never known. "What the fuck?" He whispers, eyes wide as he takes in his surroundings. 

Underneath the house, the bedrock has been chipped away to form a tunnel with lights. Jon follows the wiring on the wall, walking down some stairs and staring as the rock turns into metal. The new room he walks into has metal shelves with cans of food on it with various boxes. Cereal stacks up, spilling onto the floor. "This is a fallout shelter," Jon realizes, heading between the shelves. It opens up into a slightly bigger room that somehow looks homey.

With tears in his eyes, Jon recognizes Ryan's handwriting as he spots _Ohmwrecker_ scratched into the wall.

_"When Tyler...y'know...Ryan wanted to get away as far as possible." Scotty tells him._

_Jon fidgets uncomfortably. "Did he get far?"_

_Scotty laughs and then breaks into a coughing fit, eyes watering for a few moments. "Oh Delirious," he rasps once he regains his breath. "If there's one thing that I've learned, it's that none of us have gotten very far."_

_He wanted to get far away as possible, and so he did; to the basement of their own home._

Ohm has various knickknacks scattered around his small bed and desk. It's a tight fit and Jon wonders how the hell his dear friend managed to live down here. 

Something starts to click in Jon's head. "If he stayed away from the house..." Jon whispers, "then how the hell did he get fresh food?"

A small memorial stands out on Ryan's desk. Jaw clenched, Jon pulls open a small drawer beneath the shrine and looks at Ohm's familiar handwriting on a notepad. 

Goodbye old friend,  it reads.

I can't believe I've been down here for over a year. 

A jolt of shock rushes through Jon, and his vision swims as he struggles to sit down. "An entire YEAR?!" He wails, trying to calm his breathing. Jon's heartbeat is through the roof, but he just keeps on going as always.

On that first day, after the shaking started, I didn't think I'd survive a week. 

Evan had told him that an old train used to pass near the house, back before people would travel on the boats to bring food and groceries. Considering he's in the basement, there's a high probability that it was probably the train. Oh, Ohm...

Delirious sighs before letting himself get pulled into the flashback sequence. There's Ohm, standing at his desk and opening a can of...peaches? He takes a deep breath and freezes as the rumbling shakes his room. After it stops, he downs the can of peaches, and Delirious shuts his eyes.

But after a few days, I settled into a routine. That's what kept me sane. 

Having a schedule, living for today...I always expected to be dead tomorrow. 

The cycle repeats.  But if you wait long enough, you get used to anything. Even a monster on the other side of the door starts to feel normal. 

Almost friendly. 

A year passes. Ohm looks tired, but he still trudges on, never stopping and never giving up. 

And then one day, everything just... 

stopped. 

Was it really a monster? Jon had no idea of knowing, but perhaps Ryan wanted to escape the fate that Tyler got. Too terrified to say anything and too traumatized to continue living in the same house. 

Whatever that thing was, it was gone. Maybe it got tired of waiting... 

Or maybe I got tired of being afraid. 

Delirious has never seen Ryan look so determined. The anxiety is gone; all there's left is just a will to live and an old fear that will not resurface. 

It's been a week now, the longest in one year. 

Ryan puts down the can of peaches, grabs a bag, and shoves the can away. 

I'm done waiting. I have to leave, while I still can. 

He turns and walks towards a trapdoor that Jon hasn't noticed. He opens it up and climbs down the ladder, grasping each rung as he descends to somewhere even lower than the basement. Jon follows him; the ladder leads to a stony hallway. Carved in the wall are more shelves that hold books and a few jars of preserved food.

I know it's out there somewhere. 

Whatever killed Tyler...and Brian...and Luke... 

The hallway leads into a much bigger room. Empty jars and cans lay discarded into one pile and the lights encircle the whole room. Over by the far wall, a giant mallet lies there. Ohm walks over to it and picks it up. 

Maybe this is all a mistake. 

Ryan huffs as he picks up the mallet and swings it into the wall. A cracking noise echoes through the room. He fixes his hands on the mallet and continues to swing.

But I need to stop living the same day...even if it kills me. 

Two more swings, and majority of the rocks come tumbling down. 

It goes dark for a split second. Jon can hardly breathe in the darkness, eyes wide and trying to see his dear friend. He suddenly hears footsteps and he follows Ryan outside of the wall and into a giant tunnel. Broken down train tracks lie beneath his feet. A faint light shines from the beginning of the tunnel. 

Whatever's out there, I want you to know I'm ready for it. 

Jon can taste Ryan's hopefulness as he hobbles towards the light. Ryan sniffles a bit and wipes his tears away, smiling for the first time in forever as he walks out the tunnel and into the forest.

I'm going to appreciate all of it, especially the food. I don't mind if I have a year left. 

Or a month...or a single week. 

The forest is beautiful this time of the year. Fireflies glow in the trees, the creek bubbles somewhere in the distance, and Ryan is truly home. 

I'd be happy with one new day. 

Jon walks alongside Ryan, struggling not to cry as he sees the pure joy on his face. In front of them, a train sounds, and a bright light encompasses both of them.

I can already imagine the sun on my face. 

The horn echoes in Jon's ears and everything goes white. 

He returns out of the flashback and his vision goes dark. Jon doesn't remember passing out but he knows he has when he wakes up on the floor. He sets Ryan's notepad back in its original spot and decides he'll stay down there just for a little bit longer, basking in old memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe Walter was down there for 30 years wtf (I personally think it was a heart attack bc when Edith walks along the path to get back to the house, there's an entire cliff missing and the train tracks are broken on top of it)
> 
> I'm v excited for chapter ten, twelve, and fourteen omg


	9. run it back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait on this. stories like these have a direct plot and I wanted a break from rewinding videos and going back and forth. I hope you can forgive me :(
> 
> surprisingly I wrote fire drill, seasons, finished late nights and in which revenge, wrote zodiac, act one, quadrants, heir of grief, and started oblivion and then I finally came back to this one whoops
> 
> I’m still determined to finish this, I haven’t given up on it yet!

Delirious doesn't know how long he spends in Ryan's old room, but he manages a small nap before he gets up and heads to the trapdoor.

Despite the entire year Scotty got to live with Jon, he barely talked about the house. He claimed he would as his health declined and before it was too late, Scott would let a few secrets slip about the death of his friends.

_Focus, Jon._ Delirious shakes his head. _You can think about your dear friend later. He didn't die in vain so that's what matters._

He sighs for a moment and then descends down the ladder, shaking hands grasping the rungs. Just like his vision, it leads to the same darkened hallway he saw before.

Did...did no one ever come to help Ryan? To talk to him? What the fuck were they thinking?

_"Evan planned his funeral, and that was it." Scotty had said. "And that's all there is to it."_

Jon heads through the hallway to the cavern and spots the hole Ohm had made with the sledgehammer. There's a lingering aura of sadness as he crawls through and onto the old and battered train tracks.

Night time has fallen. Jon makes his way to the path Ryan never got to see before he died and he breathes in the misty air, closing his eyes briefly. Where did this path even lead to? How far was he outside the house? 

Delirious makes his way down to the beach, clutching his stomach. It's honestly a gorgeous night out. It's a shame there's no one for him to spend it with. 

Chairs in the trees make him stop for a moment. _Brian's hurricane..._ He shudders and makes his way up stairs that leads him back to the house. 

An unfamiliar sight greets him at the back of their monster home; a cemetery, built by Evan himself. If he looks closer, there's only eight graves.

_"Evan wasn't the last to die. But it's not his story time yet, so you'll have to wait." Scott breaks into a cough._

_Delirious eyed him worriedly. "You're getting worse."_

_"Good. Maybe it'll knock some sense into you that you need to go back, idiot."_

Jon chokes as he passes a smaller cemetery; Evan made a pet one? He spots Kino, the two Joe's, and Tony. The horrid movie flashes through his mind and he has to take a moment to reel from the dizziness.

Bryce's grave has a paintbrush, Brian's has a pair of sunglasses, Luke's has a gun, Nogla has a potato, Lui has a monkey, Tyler has a baseball bat, Ryan has the omega sign, and Marcel has a gaming headphone.

Delirious swallows as he realizes there's no one else after Marcel. _If no one finished the rest of them, and Marcel is next on my list..._

No. No no no. Evan's story was next.

Son of a bitch.

Jon gazes out over the ocean for a few moments and then turns around, walking down another path that led back to the house. The cemetery is so silent and so still and Jon is suffocating in the silence.

He heads to a familiar ladder that leads to something akin to a treehouse. A deck was built for the crew to rest on. Jon follows the deck to a tree branch that leads to the second floor; with determination, he walks across the branch and onto the roof. 

Marcel's room is right above. He climbs a convenient ladder and opens the sliding door, stepping into his dear friend's room. 

His bed is messily made and Jon walks over, admiring the pictures on the wall. There's several selfies with Scotty and the sight of his old friend causes tears to stream down his cheeks. 

It's still the same room he remembers it as. Delirious sits on Marcel's bed and gets startled as something crackles underneath the blanket. 

There's scratch paper hidden as Jon pulls back the blanket, eyes wide as he spots Marcel's handwriting. Did anyone else ever find this???

He gently lifts the paper and begins to read, letting the flashback flow over him.

I think something is terribly wrong. 

Jon knits his eyebrows and exhales as he spots Marcel sitting on his bed, shakily writing on the paper he's currently holding. 

Fuck, okay, let me restart. My name is Marcel Cunningham and I think I'm going to die. 

_Oh, shit._

Marcel wipes a few tears out of his eyes.  Ever since Luke died, we don't get a lot of food. Evan keeps to himself after everyone's death and I'm scared he'll have to endure mine as well. 

The scene flips to Marcel cooking, humming as he stands in the kitchen. In the background, Craig is a shadow as he walks in and out, head down in a book. 

Evan, Scotty, and Brock are sitting at the table talking quietly. Jon's heart clenches as he spots the five remaining friends.

I went down to the riverbank to find some stuff to make lunch. I...I found some berries and I thought to ask Brock about them but I was just hungry so I cooked them anyways. 

Marcel drops some berries into the pot and Jon's heart stops as he recognizes the holly berries he just put in.

I don't know what happened but I'm so scared because I ate them and they tasted weird and everything started to hurt. I threw out the berries before I crumpled and Scotty had to help me to my room. 

Marcel looks ill as Scotty gently talks to him, promising him to get some rest and how he'd be back later.

_"Any hints on Marcel?" Delirious asks._

_Scott is silent for a very, very long time. Jon leaves him alone; he knows Scott is going to be admitted to the hospital sooner or later, and he was delaying the inevitable._

_It's another day before Scotty says anything. "He looked like he was sleeping," he whispers. "He was so peaceful."_

_That was all he'd ever get._

And now Jon understands why. Scotty was the last person to see Marcel alive and he assumed he was going to be okay. He blamed himself for his death.

After Scott leaves, Marcel exhales and begins to write. 

I can see things that aren't here. Brian's near me and he's saying it's going to be okay. Why the fuck can I see him?! 

It's...somewhat close to what Jon was going through. He clutches his chest and breathes in and out as Marcel's shaking gets worse. 

They're all here but I can't see Delirious is he not dead I hope he's not dead please tell me he made it out of here alive 

Tears drip onto the paper before Jon can register them. He stares at them in shock as he realizes Marcel thought about him before he died.

It's a heartbreaking thought. Marcel's handwriting starts to get scribbly and hurriedly; Jon could only imagine the poison coursing through his veins, and it causes him to cry more. He couldn't do anything to stop it. 

I think it's too late for me I'm so sorry I'm so sorry 

if anyone's reading this then know that I love you very much and I'm proud to be a part of this family and I'm sorry I had to go out this way but I didn't want any of you to worry 

The last sentence is wobbly and there's dried tear marks on the final page.  i love you i love you take care of each other for me 

Jon flips over the page, wiping tears away as he sighs. To his shock, there's a single sentence written at the very bottom in very familiar handwriting.

we love you too, marcel. I hope you'll be able to run it back wherever you are. love you. —scotty 

Delirious sets the papers down on Marcel's bed and gets up. There's only four more people left on his list and he isn't ready to experience it. 

There's an old door in the corner of Marcel's room. He slides it open and crosses through another crawlspace, trying to ignore the confusion (and dizziness) in his head as he makes his way to someone he loved very dearly. 

Missing posters litter the ground and Evan's bed and Jon only has one question;

_What happened to Evan?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my plan has been foiled for delly
> 
> it's different from molly obviously but y'know what can you do when she's 10 and marcel in this story is like, 30 or something Im bad with ages


	10. hoodini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words can’t express how upset I am about Mochi. I can only hope that she’s safe and happy in the clouds where she rightfully belongs. Thank you for bringing joy into Craig and Suni’s hearts and into all of ours as well.

There’s so many fucking missing posters everywhere. 

He had seen the papers outside, of course. They littered the ground and the gardens and were stapled, taped, and nailed into trees and the wall and now there was a tsunami of them in Evan’s room.

(A part of him wonders who it was. Scotty, in his grief over Marcel? Craig, who had lost everyone and now Evan? Or perhaps even Brock, with sobs shaking his body as he printed out endless copies of the poster?)

Evan’s room was on the third floor and hidden away. It was one of the last rooms before he extended the floors above the house, where Jon, Scotty, and Brock made their homes. 

Craig’s bed was a few feet away; the two of them dubbed ‘night owls’ and rightfully so. They could stay up to odd hours of the morning together and have a good time. Delirious, someone who would also stay up, would join the two of them as he slipped in through the window and down the pole to hang out.

With the exception of Luke, Vanoss was Jon’s best friend. The two did everything together and he was the YouTuber to bring him out of his shell. 

Delirious found home in Evan.

He just never really thought that he’d take home away from everyone else.

He wipes the tear away and focuses on the few notes that cover Evan’s bed. 

I don’t know what to say. You were just there yesterday. Where did you go? WHERE DID YOU GO???? 

you weren’t supposed to leave us. not like everyone else. please. 

You were one of my best friends. Maybe you went searching for answers, or maybe you went searching for Delirious. 

Whatever the case, I hope you’re safe. I hope you found peace. Love you. —Brock 

“Oh boy,” Jon breathes out. “What do you have for me now, Evan? One last adventure? Even after we went all over this island together, and spent countless nights staying up and looking at the stars? You loved hanging out with everyone but fuck…you said you loved being with me the most.”

Delirious reaches a hand into his hoodie pocket and draws out a piece of paper. It’s been there since he first opened the gate, and he knew exactly what was on it.

_“We have notes from Evan,” Scotty had said. “This is yours. Don’t open it until you get to the house and to his story.”_

_Doing his best to ignore the beeping monitors in the hospital, Jon faintly smiled and pocketed the note, watching the doctor come in to check Scott’s vitals._

He opens the paper.

To the crazy chaotic man who stole my heart. 

“Fuck,” Delirious whispers.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. According to the calendar on my phone, it’s been four years, eleven months, and twenty-five days. I counted. 

Other than that, how are you? I hope you got this note. I left it on my desk. Maybe someone gave it to you, but I’ll never know. I saw the one you gave to Luke but it was addressed to us. The entire family. I guess I can ask Luke why he hid it when I see him again. 

The flashback tugs Jon in, but there’s truly nothing to it. Evan, in all of his glory, sits at his desk and writes the final letter. The ones next to him are marked Craig, Scotty, and Brock. 

I read the reason why you left. Death is a terrifying thing, and so is arrhythmia. I’m so sorry. 

You’re going to die soon. 

Delirious closes his eyes and exhales slowly. And there it was. His horrible, terrible truth that he’d been denying for such a long time and now he was forced to confront it. 

Fucking heart conditions. You always felt like you were immortal, and I think part of me wanted to believe that. You’re not the catalyst that started the destruction in this house over the years, I just think it was inevitable. 

Evan wipes a tear away and takes a deep breath before continuing to write.

Honestly? I’m glad you left. I’m glad you didn’t get to see us breakdown over everyone, especially me. I…I cared for you so much that I don’t think I would’ve been able to handle it. 

Jon watches as Evan finishes writing the letter and seals it, getting up and going to stand at the window. He hums thoughtfully as he opens the window and continues to stand there. 

I didn’t get a chance to ever tell you my true feelings, but maybe it doesn’t matter. I have a feeling that we’ll see each other again. 

To Delly’s shock, Evan sprouts owl wings from his back. “What the fuck?” He rasps, eyes wide as the wind ruffles the feathers. Evan smiles faintly at the moon before leaping off into the night sky, soaring to the stars. 

I love you. Stay safe for me, please. I’ll see you soon. —Evan 

The MISSING posters crunch as Delirious curls up on Evan’s bed, quietly sobbing as he crushes the letter to his heart. He’s spent so many nights sleeping in this bed and this was the first time it was truly cold. 

(Outside the window, a feather floats by, but Jon doesn’t see it.)

In his heart, Evan’s dead. He definitely is. He may not have died the moment he left the house, but upon Jon’s return he was dead.

Delirious wants him to keep his promise. He kept himself and Scotty safe for a long time and now his reward was to see his family again.

At the end of his journey, he would reap those spoils. 

He has to find the strength to get up and make his way to Craig’s bed. The Brit who lived all over the world had found his end in a mansion on an island. 

Delirious faintly smiles as he settles on Craig’s mattress. “Here’s to you, Mini,” he murmurs. “It’s good to see you at the end of the line.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never truly understood being so busy that you can't even write, because I'd stay up late to write, but my body has been physically giving out on me so I can sleep and do work later.
> 
> working on the other two stories as well; I'm just happy that I've at least started those chapters lol.
> 
> we're also in the homestretch! a few more chapters to go. <3


	11. king of the cosmos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR SUICIDE please leave this chapter if it's a trigger for you, I gave Craig to Lewis for the slot. 
> 
> I watch Cry's POV for these btw
> 
> I gotta immerse myself in Edith Finch again since it's been 2 months lmao

Craig's bed is messily made and there's a failed shrine on his blankets. Jon somehow maneuvers his body around the mess and settles into the emptiness of the room, breathing in and out as he tries not to die right then and there. 

It wouldn't have made a difference for a memorial; only Brock and Scotty left. No point. No reason to make one. 

All that's left of the eccentric Mini Ladd is a British flag, his logo on various shirts, and a thick letter that's addressed to Evan. It's from the Institute of Psychology and something goes cold in Jon's heart as he gently opens the already ripped letter. 

The envelope is crumpled and a pale shade of yellow, while the actual letter is white and crisp. It's barely touched; Brock and Scott probably looked at it once before putting it back, and Jon could never blame them for that.

Around this time, Scotty stopped talking. He just kept on coughing and coughing and Jon could only hold his hand and try not to cry. The doctors knew he wasn't doing well and that there wasn't any hope left. 

Delirious glances at the date; it's labeled from a year and a few months ago. It aligns up with Scotty's appearance and then his end, since Brock's untimely end occurred not long after Craig and then Scott left to find him. 

He takes a deep breath and starts to read the letter.

Dear Mr. Fong, 

And FUCK if that doesn't hurt. The house was in Evan's name and Jon chokes on a sob as he realizes that they probably never took his name off the property.

As Craig's psychiatrist I can understand your desire for an explanation. As I see it, the trouble began a few months ago, shortly after we convinced him to go to therapy and AA meetings for his alcoholic tendencies after the unfortunate incidents occurred in the household. 

The flashback shows their dear Craig starting to drink. An empty house with the memories of dead friends was not a place to live, but Brock and Scott occupied themselves in other ways. 

Jon can see the garden that Brock built; he can see the footprints around the island that belong to Scotty. With no one keeping an eye on the Brit, he turned to stronger alcohol. He supposes that someone must've found out and sent him to therapy.

Newly sober, I believe Craig first noticed how empty and quiet his life was. He kept himself busy but he withdrew part of himself. In our sessions I saw the same behavior. 

His mind began to...wander. I asked him to describe it. He said he started small, imaging a labyrinth. He'd feel his way about. Then something moved...bats. And toads. And things that have not names. 

Home was dark and vast and Delirious can see Craig wandering the halls, constantly lost in his head. A story began to unravel and so did Mini's mind.

He knew it was all in his head, but he took it very seriously. I had hoped he'd find himself. But he found something more. 

I worried about him then. Constantly daydreaming at his home, asleep or awake. I spoke with his friend, but he said Craig had become his old self, just reinvented. 

Suddenly there's Scotty, talking to the shadow of the therapist. "He's just like the old Craig!" He says excitedly, not noticing the glaze in his friend's eyes as he washes dishes. 

Something had broken inside and he was too good at covering it up.

So I let him go on. I even encouraged him. It seemed very promising at first; he told me he'd made a new friend named Sparky. 

That's the first warning sign for Delirious. Sparky had passed away in England the first year Craig moved in with everyone else; if he was seeing his old dog, something was terribly wrong.

He created a kingdom for himself; he created a town from the stones up, imagining people and musicians and songs for them to play. He was always humming something. 

Every day his imagination grew stronger. 

Craig had started to build a kingdom to help himself. Even though Delirious's nickname was well-earned, and he would've originally agreed that this process might've helped, leaving the Brit to his world for so long finally caused him to snap.

He no longer spoke at home, but his work ethic was reliable as ever. Then one day it struck him; all the crowds and adoring music was all in his head, and he could do whatever he wished. 

Craig's world was growing bigger. The golden crown upon his head was glittering and his cape flowed down to his ankles as he boarded a ship to find new lands.

It became a game for him. He'd conquer a land and then immediately move on. He started drifting away from our reality...until one day he decided not to leave his room. 

Brock's pounding on the door, begging with tears in his eyes as Scotty's slumped against it, deadly silent. 

Even as you pleaded with him, part of Craig kept sailing on. 

Craig's mind was gone.

In his world, he heard rumors of a beautiful prince named Tyler. 

Delirious closes his eyes and weeps.

His chase led him to a golden palace east of the sun and west of the moon. Even then, his logic remained sound. He knew the world was all in his imagination. 

But he was so proud of having created it, in his own eyes, he'd become something greater than a king. For someone who had lost so much in the real world, I think it was overwhelming. 

When Delirious had left, he wasn't used to the world around him. It pains him to say it but he really does relate to poor Mini. Having lost too much had killed him, physically and metaphorically. 

And then it struck him; the real Craig was not the one wandering around, but the one climbing the golden steps of the palace. 'My imagination is as real as my body,' he told me. It was hard to argue with him. 

He began to forget the world we know. I think it pained him to remember Craig, the heartbroken person. He began to despise the man with a royal contempt. 

Mini refuses to eat, to drink, to sleep. He just sits on his bed and looks over at Evan's, silent as his eyes well with tears even as his kingdom expands. 

I still thought I could save him. Even after he said he was being crowned king over all the lands in his world. 

For a split second, Jon can see the kingdom Craig had built. It was truly magnificent and wondrous; every brick and stone was created and perfectly put together. 

The palace would be packed with all of his companions, including the wise owl he named Vanoss. 

There's something heartbreaking about seeing Evan perch near a cheering copy of Brian, Luke nearby as the official photographer. Ryan and Bryce stand together and cheer excitedly. 

Even Nogla and Lui goad Craig on, with Marcel holding Lui on his shoulders. 

Delirious sobs as he spots a version of himself near Evan, grinning his old wicked smile as Craig strides on with golden armor and up a set of stairs. Palace guards stand to attention as Craig pauses in front of a balcony. 

His prince waited, holding his crown. There was only one thing left to do. 

The prince, smiling Tyler's bright grin and flashing his icy blue eyes, holds out the crown and Craig barely acknowledges the noose that he slips around his neck to receive his crown.

Bend down his head. 

To his adoring crowd, to the friends who had passed, Craig Thompson smiles and bends his head down for the golden, glittering crown.

The trapdoor under his feet gives away and everything goes black.

And the rest I think you know. 

Mr. Fong, your friend was a kind man who will be missed by all of us who knew him. 

My sincerest condolences. 

A haunting aura fills the room and Jon throws down the letter, shoving his way past the ghosts of Evan and Craig in the same room and rushes to leave the regular house. He still has two more stories and they lived on the outside of the mansion.

Stupid _fucking_ Vanoss, with his stupid tendencies to try and make traveling fun. Delirious has to scale a small rock wall just to leave and he enters a small attic above their beds. The window next to a shut down computer slides open easily and Jon steps outside, onto a nearly rotten wooden platform.

Jon hurries up the staircase build onto the house and spots the boxes where Brock had created his garden; most of them were dead, but Brock had made sure they would thrive after everyone's death.

A smaller building stands tall against the autumn sky; a hangout spot with video games and microwaves for popcorn for the guys. Delirious spent a lot of time with Evan up there and the memories burn in his heart.

He has to finish this. He will never forgive himself if he dies before the end of it all. 

Jon rushes out the other door and nearly falls as the bridge beneath his feet wobbles. On the other side of the bridge, a small building with a dome is encased in vines and plants and Jon exhales as he heads to the door.

The door's permanently shut with vines wrapped around it. There's no way in, so Jon makes his way around and shoves open the window that's close by. 

Glass shatters, Delirious stumbles in, and falls right onto a pot that's full of dead roses. 

The mom of the house wouldn't be pleased that he'd broken in like this. Delirious looks around and says, "Hi, Brock. Sorry to intrude like this, but I really needed to talk to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think these chapters are going to get shorter and shorter, there's not much left to write!
> 
> the last chapter might be the shortest though, and if you've watched Edith Finch then you'll know who it is and why I'm doing it.


	12. the night the stars vanished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a story I want out very soon so I'm frantically trying to finish this one LOL
> 
> happy 1 year and half a month anniversary to this story, it's been a rlly long road. hope y'all still enjoy this weird ass fanfic.

Brock was the best mom friend anyone could've asked for. While Evan seemed like the dad friend, Brock was definitely the mom of the group. He took care of everyone and when they first moved in, he was the one who made sure they ate and slept and always had a shoulder they could lean on.

The fact that he was dead...

The castle at the end of the bridge is small but homey. The entire inside is white; dried paint on the floor gives Jon memories of Bryce, and he wouldn't be surprised if various friends stayed with Brock during their breakdowns. 

An octagonal platform sits in the middle of the ground. A rope connects it to a hole in the roof, where a grate makes up the second floor of the castle. The octagonal hole in the grate is a perfect fit for the platform, and Jon steps onto it and grasps the rope. 

He ascends to the second floor and Jon sighs, feeling his heart stutter. The dome over the entire castle is made of glass and Jon can see the other houses that Evan built on top of the original one. 

If he looks up, he can see his own, and he turns away before the homesickness sets in.

Brock's room was always one of his favorites. It was so simple and beautiful, and Jon lets a few tears fall. 

On several shelves, dead plants litter the room. When everything was flourishing, Delirious would find himself sitting in the room while Brock did some miscellaneous things in the background. Fuck, he can hear it now...

_It's been about 10 minutes since Jon's broken into Brock's room, and the resident mom friend hums thoughtfully as he waters his plants and keeps an eye on the distraught man that's sitting on the grate. "Wanna talk about it?"_

_A mute shrug of Jon's shoulders, and Brock sets down the floral watering can to sit next to him. "I'll ask you yes or no questions and you just nod or shake your head, okay?"_

_Yeah. Okay. That's something he can do. Jon nods, and a smile curls at the corner of Brock's lips. "Alright. Did you get overwhelmed?"_

_A nod. Brock continues. "Was it the guys? Were they being too much?"_

_Another nod. Jon finally manages to look up at Brock to see him chuckling at the sitting man. "Did you forget your headphones?"_

_"They broke." Jon's voice is croaky and raspy, and the other man nods. "I'm glad you told me since I had another pair ordered anyways. Here you go, Delly."_

_To his amazement, there is indeed a box with the Beats logo on it. Jon's eyes are huge and appreciative as he opens them, marveling at the ocean blue color of the headphones. He gets up and tackles Brock down; he laughs and tightly hugs Jon back. "You're welcome! Remember to come down for dinner, Luke's making fish."_

Delirious shakes himself out of his memories and instead focuses on the flashback that's drawing at the edge of his mind. The presence of Scotty is there, and of course, he willingly allows himself to be pulled in.

* * *

The final end of it all is a very quiet day. Brock's still tending to his plants, always trying to be productive in the too quiet mansion. There is too much space for merely two people and it's becoming evident in the way Scotty is agitated.

Sometime after Craig's death, Brock goes to a doctor and gets prescribed anxiety pills to help try and calm him down. He depends on them far too much; their resident mom friend is shaky and panicky and does his best not to cry all the time. 

It's unbelievable at how cramped someone could feel in this house with only one other person, but...

It's familiar. Jon understands, and they both cried about it when Scott found him later.

They're eating dinner, and Delirious can already see the way that Scotty's done with everything. It's in his stance. It's in his eyes, the grief and anger molding itself into determination. Scotty Charles is officially _done._

"Brock," he says quietly. The only sounds are Brock's fork scraping his plate and the wind whistling past the windows. 

Scott clears his throat. "Brock," he says, a bit louder. "I can't do this anymore."

The fork scraping stops. Brock looks up, eyes wide and breathing ragged. "What?"

"I can't do this anymore." Scott pushes away his plate of food and tries to blink the tears out of his eyes. "This is too much. Everyone's DEAD and we're just sitting here waiting to die!!!" 

"No!" Brock insists, hands shaking as he reaches for his pills. "We're preserving their memory by staying here! Delirious left first and now it's just us!"

"But what if he's not dead?" Scotty replies, and there it is. The idea that would have Scotty hunt him down just to make peace with the first person who left. He was proof that the curse hadn't claimed him yet; if Delirious escaped it, then maybe Scott could. 

"He would've come back," Brock sobs, and there's the mom friend that loved them all. "He would've come back to us."

Scotty gets up and shoves his chair back. "I'm leaving, Brock. I wish you the best if you still stay here but I have to go. My bag's already packed."

He starts walking away and Brock goes after him, nails ripping into his shirt. "Please," he begs. "You have to stay for us. For everyone, for Evan!"

With a grace that not even Jon could've expected, Scotty gently removes Brock's hands and presses a light kiss to his head. "I'm carrying on their memory by going to find Delirious," he says, and Brock sobs even more. "This is for all of us. Goodbye, Brock."

Scotty Charles is the second to leave with hope in his heart and a feeling in his chest that feels like relief. 

(He ignores the positive papers in his pockets from the hospital and does his best to suppress his cough.)

Jon watches as Brock wails, hand outstretched towards the door that Scott just closed. He lunges for his anxiety pills and downs all of them. With the meds in his system, he grabs some leftover alcohol from the fridge and downs it, slumping to the floor and curling up to cry. 

Delirious gets practically thrown from the flashback and looks downcast as Brock's memory lingers in his home. He descends from the dome area and steps off the platform, climbing back out the window and making his way across the bridge.

Built into the video game house, there's a staircase that leads even further up. Jon heads upwards and to the second-to-last home he needs to visit. 

Scotty took the time out of his life before he died to find Delirious, and now he would do the same for his dear friend.

He opens up a trapdoor and heads into Scott's home. "Hey," he whispers to the empty room. "Long time no see, dude. I miss you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was actually my favorite chapter to write?? hm.


	13. home is where the heart is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally moved out!!
> 
> fuck. this feels amazing.

Scotty’s home is moderately empty. He was the second person to ever pack up his posessions, so his room doesn’t have any personal items. It still holds the memory of the one person who ever sought him out, so…

Delirious is dying. It was inevitable, honestly. He had gone to the doctor’s shortly before Scotty arrived at his apartment and revealed that everyone was dead and he was next. 

Heart failure was a bitch to deal with. Maybe the amount of horror games Jon played throughout his entire career didn’t help, but he wouldn’t take any of it back. They brought him and his subscribers joy and always made his friends laugh when they watched the videos themselves. 

Jon sits on Scotty’s bed and curls up momentarily, breathing in the cold air of the room. There's a few posters still left on the wall; limited editions of everyone in the Banana Bus Squad.

Originally, Delirious didn't really talk to Scott. He'd see him around with either Marcel or Tyler, laughing with Evan or dealing with Nogla and Brian. They interacted, of course, but it wasn't often enough to make a longer friendship.

After everyone, well, started to die, and Scott made his escape, they bonded easier after that. Nothing could bring two people together like death and misery.

Due to the fact that Delly had already seen him die, he really didn't need a flashback for it. His own memories provided the timeline that brought down Scotty.

* * *

Five years after Jonathan Smith had left his family, there was a knock on his apartment door.

When he opened it, Scotty Charles was standing on his welcome mat with tears in his eyes and a bag in his hands. The man had broken down into vicious sobs and brought a shocked Delirious in for a giant hug that practically crushed him. (He had wheezed and tried to bring air back into his lungs and to let the discomfort settle, since he didn't want Scotty to know about his impending death.)

"They're all dead," Scotty had sobbed, curled up into a pitiful ball on Jon's couch. "I don't even know if I could bring myself to...to..."

"Yeah," Jon had said softly. "Listen. You don't have to tell me right now. I've been gone for so long, I don't think I could handle it myself."

At that, Scotty had sniffed, wiped away his tears, and glared. "You left us."

Unaffected but iron will withstanding, Jon stood firm. "I did."

 _"Why?"_

"I had to," Jon shut his eyes. _Had he read the note he left for Luke? He explained all of it there. Why he couldn't deal with it, the fear that he would be the downfall of the group, how he just couldn't do it anymore._

Scotty's anger didn't last forever, obviously. He forgave Jon and eventually understood why it was too much for him. 

Even in crowds, Scott couldn't stay around people. He had gotten used to staying with the squad and then no one; how could he adjust? PTSD was a bitch to deal with. And of course, the hospital visits that had started to consume his entire fucking life. 

There's something very heartbreaking about watching an energetic person lose his spirit and smile. Delirious, still notorious for his laughter, found himself smiling less and less as Scotty's coughs got worse. The cancer was slowly starting to rip him apart. 

Of course, they found solace in the unaware population around them. The person giving the two smiling men ice cream would never know of the death they had faced, their entire family torn apart. 

No one would know of an empty mansion on a lonely island, forever doomed to fade into nothing.

* * *

At some point, Scotty starts to bring up the house.

He's getting even worse. Starting to break down, too many frantic visits to then hospital in the middle of the night. Delirious knows he's running out of time when Scott starts to talk about the house with a wistful look in his eyes.

"It was so beautiful at night," he'd say dreamily, staring up at the sky. "No real pollution or anything. Evan was always a good chef."

Delirious had swallowed and stared out the window. "Vanoss was someone who ate ramen and pre-made dinners, I don't think he cooked."

"Oh, right! Fuck!" Scotty had smacked the side of his head. "Luke cooked. Cartoonz was so fucking cool, he talked about you for a few months before he died."

Jon can't even be angry at him. If it brought Scott peace, then fuck it. Someone deserved a peaceful death.

And, as everything must come to an end, Scotty Charles collapses one day and Jon's shaking as he drives him to the emergency room.

Stories spill from Scotty's lips, from when they found Craig's body, to the disappearance of Evan, and Ryan's retreat to the underground. Lui's body never found, the mess they saw when they found Daithi, the explanations they could never give for Brian and Tyler. 

Marcel's permanent nap, the picture they couldn't bring to burn for Luke, and how it was only Scotty who saw Brock before the end. The worse part was that he would never know what happened to him; something about alcohol being the last thing Scott saw, and he knew that you should never mix it with medicine like that.

They'd never know now anyways. 

"Think I could ask him?" Scotty had asked, tired, exhausted, but still managed to keep a small smile. "Won't be long now anyways."

"Stop," Delirious had said wearily. "Please don't." 

"What?" Scott had laughed. "I'm dying. Might as well have a good laugh about it before the curse catches me."

There's nothing anyone can do, and Jon can't do anything except sit in the chair next to the hospital bed and listen to Scotty's rambles. "You should go back to the house," he'd whisper. "I want you to go back. You've been gone for so long."

"No," Delly would shake his head. "Fuck that. It's literally full of _death, Scotty._ I'm not going home."

"Home." Scott grinned. "You called it home."

* * *

It's late one night when Scotty's health rapidly declines. Delirious can barely stay awake, but when the health monitor flatlines, he jerks to attention and there's already tears blurring his vision. 

"NO!" He screams, shaking as he grabs Scotty's arm. "PLEASE! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!"

"Sorry," Scotty rasps. "Nothing I can do, buddy." The monitor is too loud and oh god oh _god oh god no no no please—_

Something cold and metal gets pressed into his palm. Jon gasps and stares down at the key in his hand, feeling his chest tighten up and his heart skip several beats. His vision goes black for several seconds and he forces himself to stay on his feet, trying to prevent the inevitable blackout.

The doctors are rushing in and all Delirious can focus on is Scotty's hand, clammy and clamped in his own.

"Go home, Delirious." Scotty gives him a final smile from the hospital bed. "Go home. I can't quite piece everything together, but if you go home, you'll understand everything."

"Goodnight, Scott." Jon chokes on his tears. His dear friend closes his eyes for good and Jon cries like it's the end of the world.

Delirious is the last one left alive.

* * *

He goes home.

* * *

Jon slowly gets up from Scotty's bed and heads to the exit, rigid as he opens the door. It leads out to a the final wooden platform and stairs that would lead all the way up to...

The final room.

Delirious's room.

His heart hurts, all the stories have been completed, and Jon slowly shuts the door behind him, slumping down to the ground and staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused and mind a million miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one last chapter! <3


	14. despite it all, you (somewhat) survived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS STORY IS FINALLY COMPLETE
> 
> I have been waiting SO LONG to write this chapter!!!!!! just for the ending!!!!!!!
> 
> check out that dope ass symbolism at the very end of this chapter and the very first line of the first chapter ;)

He doesn’t know what compels him to finally get off the floor in the end.

It might be the ghosts in the room, it might be his own mind telling him to finish it before he wastes away, but Delirious gets to his feet and sways uneasily. 

He knows he’ll be dead by morning.

Honestly, Jon has no clue how he made it up the stairs to his room. He feels the weight in his chest and his frantic heartbeat that grows strong and slows down again. 

There's packing peanuts all around him, still undisturbed from his escape from the mansion. It seems as if no one’s really been in his room, but Delirious knows better than that; he knows that they all probably refused to move anything around, attempting to preserve his memory. 

Jon heads up to his actual bed. When he heads up the stairs, his gaze lands on his comforter, and a choked sob rips its way out of his throat. 

This was home for him. This was his life for so long, with Luke, with Tyler, with Evan. He loved them so fucking much but he _had to leave._

Delirious doesn’t regret leaving, but he does regret the way he left. He wishes he could’ve talked to them about it, but instead he just bailed and ran as fast he could. 

And Luke never gave his boys the note he had written them. 

A part of him still remembers the jagged curl of his letters, teardrops staining the paper as he frantically dropped it off in front of Luke’s door before fleeing. 

to my boys 

can’t do this anymore 

everything’s too much im so fucking sorry i never meant for this to happen 

i only bring the group down because of my stupid fucking issues and i don’t want you guys to deal with that 

please be happy for my sake i just want you guys to be a family no matter what 

i hope you can forgive me one day 

i love you guys 

delirious 

Jon wipes his tears away, stumbling over to his bed. As he sinks into the mattress, he cries one final time, and soaks his pillows with his grief.

After he ran from the island, he kept jumping from home to home. He just survived, losing sight of his family, his hope, and determination. He just wanted to _live._

Delirious has to come to a decision. 

He understands his death. He wholeheartedly accepts it, he embraces it, and he realizes he’s okay to die in a place where his family lived. 

It would be fitting, really. Even if the mansion was crawling with death, it was chock full of love and life and memories. It wouldn’t be that bad of an end. 

His choice is quite easy to make, actually. He's not afraid anymore. He knows he'll be okay in the end. 

Delirious spends the next hour leaving his room and heading back through the mansion, traveling around to stop at the cemetery. He presses a kiss to every gravestone and quietly carves out the last few names that Evan missed. 

(He carves out a gravestone for himself. It doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would.)

There's one final thing he has to do. 

Dawn approaches, slowly but surely, and Jon makes his way through the woods and back to the beginning. He doesn't have much longer now, so he takes in the sights and sounds and listens to the creek bubble. The crickets are calming and he takes in the leaves that crunch under his shoes. 

The gate's still open. 

It seems so long ago that he stood here, full of fear and terror at seeing the mansion again. Now he knows he's properly going home and he'll see his family again. 

An owl feather floats down from the sky and lands in his hoodie. 

In front of him, the sun weakly rises, and Delirious manages a faint smile at his last sunrise. 

He takes a deep breath before he closes the gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me a year and four months to finish this lmao nice
> 
> thank you everyone for actually still reading this, I nearly gave up on it a few times but sometimes you just gotta powerhouse through it :')
> 
> love y'all <3


End file.
